Cold touch
by Darkanny
Summary: He's gone. Now what. (an: first sad story, don't be mean D:, rated T just in case)


It had happened in a sunny day, the orb of fire showering the land with its warm rays, slowly melting away the thick layers of snow covering the ground to let some of the smallest life forms a chance to breath, flowers and sprouts, little animals and birds, all of them straightening up, getting out of their hiding spots and dens in caves or hollow trees to warm their furs and feathers, catch a bit of light to get a new hold on life.

It was hateful.

How dare them be happy, how dare the sun show its stupid face in the clear sky when everyone, everything should be mourning, the clouds that ought to be covering the sky lost somewhere else. Hiccup sneered at something, the sky, the light, the small squirrel scurrying away in front of his feet, the birds chirping to each other, the way the snow melted and turned to water, running down the ground in small rivulets. He was just so angry, so sad. He wanted to cry, to scream, to yank his hair and punch everyone in the face.

But he wouldn't. Couldn't.

Toothless walked towards him, slowly, cautiously, sensing the waves of distress and hate and grieve rolling off of him. He purred questioningly at him, tilting his head and lowering his ears. Hiccup didn't seem to notice him, or just didn't want to, and the dragon went completely ignored, making his way back to the village with the lines of vikings slowly walking up the hill from the beach, a little girl sobbing and holding tightly onto her mother's hand.

Green eyes followed the way the boat floated away in the water, how it swayed slowly, the structure being destroyed meticulously by the flames covering the wood, giving the poor soul in it a proper goodbye. Not that there would be a proper way to say goodbye, not for Hiccup. He thought about his face, the way he would always be smiling at him, at everyone, happiness filling his entire being and as contagious as a plague running through one's body. The wide, shiny smile that would only get bigger every time his blue eyes found that auburn head of hair in the crowd. Those cold, and yet so warm arms that would curl around his waist at night, while watching the stars in the night sky, or just laying in bed, skin against skin, breathing slowly turning from ragged to normal, heartbeats lullying each other to sleep.

For the first time since the accidnet, he felt his dry eyes wettening, hot, salty tears running down his stoic face, trailing paths over the constellations of freckles that he loved so much to touch, to kiss, to count one by one just to bother him. His upper lip quivered, the heat of the fire still close enough to turn the air in front of him wavering, and at some point he couldn't tell if the blur around his sight was due to the fire, or his own eyes glazing over.

A sob escaped his mouth, and he whined. He was alone, everyone having left to return to his own bussiness, the heavy weight of a face nowhere to be seen, a laugh nowhere to be heard, a perfect snowball that would never be thrown again still lingering in the air. But they were vikings, a life lost was a life honored, a life celebrated, a life that couldn't get in the way of work, that would stay in their hearts and minds, but that couldn't affect the way their arms worked or they legs walked.

Hiccup hated everyone so much.

Hated his villagers, for being able to continue with their lifes as if nothing had happened, hated his friends, for feeling sad and mournful, but not enough to cry, hated his father, for keeping his face straight and his posture firm, even thought he was just as broken on the inside as his son. Hated the dragons, for knowing what it felt like to lose someone of their own, but being too used to it to actually understand, hated Toothless, for being such a wonderful friend and trying to cheer him up, to curl around him and try to protect him from the world at such a time, for watching him with those big eyes, telling him it was okay to be sad, it was okay to cry, to be weak, to scream and let himself go.

Hated himself most of all, for hating everyone so much, for being so pathetic, for denying his crushed soul a way to breath, to take every piece of his being that was slowly rotting away and throw it out. For not letting his tears fall as freely as they wanted. For being alone. For not being there for him. For not saving him. For not running fast enough when the poor girl rushed screaming into the village from the forest she and her brother had just ventured into.

For not being able to say goodbye.

His legs trembled, losing the hold on his own weight and doubling over, his body falling to the ground, arms holding himself against the ground, breath getting faster and heavier, the force being used to hold himself up draining the one keeping his composture and, finally alone, he let himself go. He cried, and cried, and cried. Shouted and cursed and punched the ground until his eyes and throat were raw and his knuckles bleeding, the boat finally stopping a few yards away from the shore, the fire having consumed most of the structure and more than likely all of the body being carried away, the last slab of plank burnt and sinking, slowly, and Hiccup felt, in that brief moment of lucidity, that it didn't matter how fast or far that piece of wood sunk, it would never be as deep down in the bottom as he felt himself to be.

Days, weeks, months, it didn't even matter anymore. Time had passed, every single one of the days after the funeral warmed by a scorching sun that didn't appear to have any intention of leaving. The tribe was quite happy, the grass was growing faster, the animals getting fatter, the water was warm enough to take a bath in the shore without risking freezing over.

He didn't like it. Not at all.

It was like some message from above, now that _he_ wasn't here anymore, he, the only person in the island who seemed to truly love the white scenery, who would dig tunnels in the snow to help animals find food, who would gather the kids to have snowball fights, who would walk around in ice barefeet with no sign of discomfort, who pulled Hiccup out of his house into the forest to roll around in the snow, making snowmen and snowdragons and who had spent his last moments with his sister, teaching her how to slide over the ice he loved so much; it was as if the grey clouds had decided it wasn't worth it anymore, why should they come back to cover the island in snow and ice if _he _wouldn't be there to apreciate it, to love it, to enjoy it? Why should they grant him the console of something as cold as his skin had been, something so white as his unnaturaly spiky hair, something so pure as his wonderful soul?.

He'd stopped going to the academy, Astrid taking over silently and taking care of the dragons. He did his chief-in-training duties, following his father around and helping him put order into the village. He didn't feel like talking anymore, not trusting his voice to stay steady trough a whole sentence anymore, only allowing himself to talk more when alone with Toothless, the dragon wouldn't give him the pitiful looks his friends would, he would just curl around him on his bed or the floor, purring soothingly and licking the tears that would still stream down his face, his big eyes full of love and understanding, _it's okay_ they said, _I miss him too._

It was too early in the morning, or maybe too late into the night, when the burst of wind slammed his window open. Hiccup woke up with a start, instincts making him jump out of bed and lose his balance with only one leg. He managed to keep himself straight, flopping back into the bed, breathing harshly and holding his heart. It was kind of nice, feeling it beat, knowing that it was still there, at least. Securing his fake leg on the clasp, he stood and walked towards the window, the wind still blowing inside, somehow neither the noise or cold managing to wake up the black lump of a dragon sleeping on the slab of rock on the other side of the room.

Cold...it was so cold. He held himself against the window frame, letting the current curl around him, making his bones ache and his body tremble, and it felt so good. It was the first time in months the temperature dropped this low, and it brought with it such a wonderful feeling of comfort to him, that Hiccup couldn't help the trembling smile that made its way over his face, his muscles aching from not managing to express such an emotion in so long.

This kind of cold only meant one thing, he though, and just as the idea crossed his mind, it happened. First one, the more. White specs of dusty snow falling down from the sky, touching the ground and melting away, but soon enough it was enough that a soft dusting of white covered the ground. He stretched an arm and let some snowflakes fall into his open palm, the cold ice feathers bringing a relieved sigh from his lips.

Making sure Toothless still slept, he jumped out of the window, falling soundlessly into the hill overlooking his room, and made his way into the forest, snow falling faster and covering his ragged breathing. He walked, and walked, and walked, every minute a thicker layer of snow covered the ground, and soon enough he felt the cold seeping deep into him, ironically warming his soul in a way he hadn't felt since the last time they'd been together, a few nights before he was gone.

He stopped. There, right in front of him, a pond. The pond. The place that had become recurrent in his nightmares, a boy in the middle of it, floating over the ice and smiling at him, stretching his hand to him before suddenly the ice breaks and he falls, not a scream out of his mouth as the water devours him and envelops him in darkness.

He felt his eyes sting, and rubbed at them roughly with the back of his hand, steping forward and around the frozen pond. How would have been, he thought, if I would've been here? Would he still be with us, with me? Would he still be able to hug his siter and chase away the monsters lurking in the shadows of her room? Would we still be able to go out anf fly, both on Toothless back untill he found a dragon for himself?

Would I had been able to say goodbye?

Reaching the other side of the pond, he settled himself into the ground, sitting over a white pile of soft, crunchy snow, and laying down completely on it, his back getting wet and cold, arms hugging himself tightly. Closing his eyes, he imagined it was him embracing him, his cold body surrounding every inch of his much smaller one, the wind that seemed to follow him around every time brushing his red bangs and caressing his brow.

He sighed, a happy smile on his relaxed face, and didn't move. Time passed, and he couldn't feel much anymore, couldn't move his arms or legs, chest constricting painfully, trying to force itself to keep breathing, beating. The smile still on his face long ago a purple tone, small lines of ice crusting his lashes and covering his cheeks. He felt so at peace, ready for whatever was coming for him, and in the last moments of conciousness, he could have sworn he heard a deep, chiming laugh intertwined in the wind, a cold touch to his forehead, and he sighed one last time.

"Jack..."

It was Toothless who found him, following his scent around the snow, frantically digging the snow until a mop of auburn hair surrounding a blue face appeared under the layers of ice. He stopped, his claws carefully digging Hiccup out, and curling around his body, trying to warm him up, to maybe get his eyes to open, his chest to move, his heart to beat. He wasn't stupid. He knew it was useless, but just as his rider, he was stubborn, he wouldn't leave him like this.

When Stoick found them, Toothless lovingly licking Hiccup's frozen face, covering his body in the exact same way he did when they'd fought the Red Death, the chief stopped. It was heartbreaking, a scene so similar, with such a diferent outcome. Because he knew, even without getting closer,that this time Hiccup's heart wouldn't produce that wonderful thumping again.

When he managed to gently pry his son away from the growling dragon, it was as if Toothless had finally understood the situation, and he broke. He howled, long and loud, while Stoick carried the boy back to the village. More howling followed from everywhere around the island, every single sound drowned by the noise, and down in the village everyone knew.

But strangely enough, no one could quite explain it, but it was kind of a relief. Hiccup hadn't died today, he had months ago, when the boat holding his one true love, his soulmate, his best friend, was set on fire and sent into the ocean. Today, he wasn't alone and broken, he was up there, looking down at them, a smile on his face and hand intertwined with a much paler one.

He was finally complete.

He was happy.


End file.
